The Rules of Attraction
by Jademagic
Summary: This is a holiday they will never forget.
1. Let it Snow

Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League or any of the characters-

Hawkin: and I think we can all agree that's for the best…

*Let it Snow*

          _Now what was it? _J'onn stirred and looked at the clock. 12:00; of course; they_ still_ weren't asleep. He was so sick and tired of this. All they ever thought about, all day and most of the night was the other. Was it not enough that _they_ were losing sleep over this? Did they have to make _him _suffer with them too? Apparently. Even he needed sleep _once in a while. If it were up to him, he would haul the both of them off and make them start talking, or better yet, __tell everything himself. But __he wouldn't let him. Honestly; that guy wasn't even _on_ the Watchtower half the time, and _he_ was the one who caused the most trouble to him. Speaking of which, whenever he __was up here, __he and that other girl would join the brooding of the two annoying ones, and he would get noting but splitting headaches. But what was this? Something was different tonight. That feeling of love was so strong, he couldn't bare it. _

_It must have to do with earlier. That's another thing I need to remember to thank the Joker about. So, they finally let the, how do they say it? 'Cat out of the bag?' Makes no sense whatsoever to me, but at least they know now. This, unfortunately, can only result in two ways; one: the all night all day broodings would finally cease, or two: this would only make them think of each other even more. __Now if that winged freak would hurry up with his_ confession, and little Mr. Boy Scout spent more time on earth and less time up here worrying…_ _

"It's about time." J'onn sighed._ "Now where did I put that aspirin...?"_

*********************

_A dream._He thought. _This has to be a dream. Nothing this good could be real. I did not just spend the evening with the one I truly love. I couldn't have. It was just a dream. The beautiful snow, circling that beautiful figure. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing could possibly go wrong at a time like this. Not possible; simply not possible. The last time I remember feeling like this was the first time I ever saw the snow; that beautiful mass of perfection. At least I thought it was perfection. Now I know what perfection is; it's beautiful, not one flaw, and it starts with an 'S'-_

**************************

He groaned slightly. What the heck was that poking him? He slowly opened his eyes to see a face hovering over his own.

"You might want to get going," it said. "It gets a bit rough around here when it gets dark, and you and your girlfriend have had a rough night, considering your species."

"Thanks," John replied to him. "I hope that blow Hawkgirl gave you wasn't too bad."

The creature chuckled. "I've had worse happen, trust me. All in the Spirit, you know. But like I said, you and your girlfriend need to get going." He turned to go.

"You're right; the others must be back by now, and if we're not there- wait, she's not- I mean- we're not- what I'm trying to say is-" John grunted and tried to lift himself so that he could see the creature's retreating form, but found there was a heavy weight on his left side. He looked around and his breath caught. There she was, curled up beside him, one hand gripping his arm tightly. Her hair was mused from the fighting, and her cheeks still held a slight touch of color, though her breathing was calm and regular. He noticed that he had unconsciously been holding onto her just as tightly. 

"You were saying?" the creature chuckled. John turned an interesting shade of maroon. 

Sighing, he tried to get up without waking her. After getting to his feet, he made his way outside. He hesitated; he felt like he had forgotten something….

"Wait!" cried a voice. John turned. There was a small, lizard looking  alien, barely up to his waist, waddling like a penguin up to him holding something securely.

"I think she might be wanting this," he smiled as he handed it to John.

"Thanks," John grinned back. "I would hate to find out what would happen if I forgot this."

The little alien bobbed his head and smirked. "Yeah; you'd end up sleeping on the couch? Don't worry," he added, taking the look on John's face the wrong way. "It happens to all of us once in a while; the trick it to make it up to her. Get her something she's been eyeing for a while, that you said you thought was a waste of time, energy, and money. You'll be back in so fast, you won't ever miss it, and it always makes everything," here he paused and showed all of his small, pointy teeth, "twice as nice." John turned another shade of maroon. He decided to simply shake off what the alien had said.

          _Might as well play along_ he thought to himself. Creating a life support around himself and Hawkgirl, he turned the alien and nodded slightly. "Thanks for the advice."

          "Anytime," the small, purple skinned alien smiled wickedly again.

*************************

          "Hello?" echoed throughout the halls. "Of course," he cursed himself. _Everybody had gone anywhere but here for the holidays._ Retreating to the wing that was set away from almost everything else that held only his and Hawkgirl's rooms, he gently set her on her bed after opening the locked door with his ring. 

_So beautiful; so perfect was the only thing through his mind as he watched her sleep. She was a really heavy sleeper; she'd barely stirred during the entire trip, which was _not_ a short one. He slowly removed the mask. _ She's would kill me if she woke up and I was in her room… _he thought, though somehow he knew that tonight, even if she did wake up, she would have no objections whatsoever. Looking around the room, he noticed that something lying on a chair as though it had been set out to be worn that night. He smiled when he realized what it was: one of the few old Marine T-shirts he had given her to replace various nightgowns that Flash had destroyed when it was his turn to do the laundry. Of course, John was sensible enough to take his clothes back to earth during this time; Hawkgirl didn't have this same advantage, and though many of them were of greater sentimental value to her than their dollar value (which was quite expensive), Hawkgirl would never admit that those shirts from John meant more to her than most of the stuff she had brought from Thangar with her. But, she had learned her lesson; when it was Flash's turns nowadays, John ended up tugging Shayera's clothing as well as his, and, just so the others wouldn't start thinking something was going in between them while they were hidden away from them in their lone wing, she never let any of them see her in one of John's shirts (after all, how were they supposed to know what did and didn't go on in John and Shayera's wing? There were no cameras in their wing, so there was no way for them to)._

As he moved to retrieve the shirt from the chair, he stepped on a small locket. Obviously, it was Hawkgirl's. It looked as if someone had tried to destroy it. Managing to untangle the mess of metal ( really, it was gold; solid gold). He gazed at the beaten picture inside that was barely recognizable. It looked like a  younger Hawkgirl, standing beside a man who was only a few years older than her as  far as he could tell. Both faces were covered with masks, but the man's face was clearly shining with happiness, and although she was smiling in the picture, Shayera's eyes didn't reflect happiness. On the back, he could barely make out the inscription: _Love lasts forever, and that is how long you have mine- Katar._ John glanced at the bed. Could this be what she had been so upset about that night? 

He shrugged and placed it on her nightstand. John doubted he would live to see another day should he mess with something of Shayera's without her permission…then again, as much as they fought, which was basically whenever they were in the same room and the rest of the team was around, no matter how much she threatened him, never once had she carried out even one. Not even before the Joker's little TV show. John smiled at the memory of what had happened afterwards. 

Turning, he watched as Shayera continued to sleep peacefully. But John frowned. He was trying to decide whether make the trip back home, or to stay on the Watchtower. To buy more time, he put away the T-shirt and got out another nightgown. He doubted she would take kindly to him changing her into one of his t-shirts. Carefully, so as not to wake her, (especially right now), he slipped off her uniform and slipped on the thin, green, silk night gown. Shayera continued to dream. 

John pulled the cover over her, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling. To him, he had never seen anything more beautiful than Shayera at that moment in the entire world, lying under the silk sheets, the moonlight shining in, lighting her beautiful face; her long, red hair that streamed around her head like a troubled sea. John would have been quite content to stand there and watch her just lie there and dream, sleep, all day and all night. He picked up her hand from underneath the covers and gave it a delicate kiss. A small smile twitched on her lips, then John placed her hand back and turned to leave.

As he reached the door, just as he was about to open it, he stopped. He didn't even have to turn around; he knew that she had stirred. _That decides it, then_ he thought. He walked out of her room and to his own. A short while later, he reappeared in the doorway in a pair of sweat pants, snug at the waist and holding a pillow and some blankets. He didn't bother locking the door; no one else was up here, after all, and even if they were, unless it was the most extreme of emergencies, no one could get into their wing; not that anyone would try, considering how John and Shayera would deal with them if they did.

Placing the pillow on the floor, he cast one more glance at Shayera who was now sitting up in the bed, just as she had been when he was getting ready to leave. She smiled. "Good night, G.L." 

 "Good night, Hawkgirl." He lay down, pulled the cover up, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

************

          John woke with a start. He had been having a bad dream, true, but that wasn't what had wakened him up. He immediately got up and went over to Shayera's bed. She was twisting and turning in her sleep, muttering about refusing to betray her friends, not for whoever was in the dream, not for anyone, especially, at least, this is what John _thought he heard, her love. He stared at her, forgetting about the fact that she was having a bad dream, and focusing on exactly what she was dreaming about. _

          "Not…..no….not him….not John, Katar,…I would never....I couldn't ……..more than life itself……" she continued to toss and turn. 

John snapped back and climbed on the bed beside her. He took her in his lap, holding her head to his bare chest. "It's all right, Shay, its ok. Nothing's wrong, nothing's going to happen to you, promise." Snapping her eyes open, she looked up to see John's, full of concern, looking back at her.

          He didn't even have to ask; they rarely had to say anything at all, yet they always knew what was bothering the other, what they were feeling, what they wanted to say. She snuggled closer to him. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream." John's eyes still held a bit of concern, but he nodded. However, he  continued to hold onto Shayera, keeping her small form close to him. She laid her head back in his chest and closed her eyes, feeling strangely safe and secure just to know he was in the Watchtower with her.

          "Nothing's going to happen to you, Shay, I promise." He kissed the top of her head. 

After a moment's pause, he added gravely, "I won't let it."

_*****************_

          John sighed. The hot shower felt good on his face. He climbed out and wrapped a towel around his waist, then slowly walked back to his bedroom. He put on slacks and a sweater, then, finished packing some of his clothes. He stopped suddenly, an idea occurring to him, and sprinted out of the room to Shayera's.

          "Hey, Hawkgirl!" he ran in, out of breathe despite the fact that her room wasn't that far from his. 

          She looked up from where she was sitting over something, intent on whatever it was she was doing. He thought he's heard her talking, so she must have been talking _to someone…who made her upset because her eyes were slightly bleary. She quickly wiped them so John wouldn't see them._

          "Look, I know this is your first Christmas and everything, and that you usually wouldn't celebrate it at all, but come on! It's Christmas Eve! I can't let you stay here by yourself!" John breathed so fast, it would have put Flash to shame. He then put on a pleading face and got on his knees, crawling towards her. "Please? You can come with me and celebrate. I usually celebrate with a few old friends and Flash, but how about just you and me celebrate? We can trim the tree and sing and-"

          Shayera laughed. She had never seen John like this before, unless you counted yesterday on the Ice Planet when he made that snow angel and was rolling around in the snow like a little kid. "But, I thought yesterday was Christmas Eve…?" she asked, purposely getting him upset.

          "It doesn't matter! The Ice Planet's ahead of us, today is Christmas Eve on Earth, but it still doesn't matter! Oh, come on! Please, please, I won't have a good Christmas if you're up here all alone instead of with me so that we can be all alone together." The way John looked, Shayera was starting to wonder if he would be above whimpering and whining like Flash.

          She raised an eyebrow to this remark. "Ok, who are you, and what have you done with the real Green Lantern? You sound like Flash."

          "What? What are you talking about? I don't sound anything remotely like that big, whining baby! Honestly, he jokes about any and everything-"

          "You know perfectly well that you never act like this, and if we so much as stand in the same room, all we do is argue."

          John stopped his façade for a minute. "You know that that's fake and that it's only for Batman, and Wonder Woman, and Flash and J'onn, and-"

          "J'onn?"

          John's face lit up with a soft smile. "Ok, maybe not _him_. But how do I sound like Flash?"

          "And I quote 'I won't have a good Christmas if you're up here all alone instead of with me so that we can be all alone together'?"

          He took a minute to think about what she meant by that….and what she _could've_ meant by that. "You are a sick and twisted individual," he grinned.

          She laughed. "Will you promise to go back to being the stiff, arrogant, drill sergeant, Mr. I'm-better-than-you, in pompous jerk, everything-has-to-be-perfect-because-I-said-so, busy body we all know as Green Lantern?"

          John saluted the laughing Hawkgirl. "Oh, all right. I guess I _do_ need a vacation." Before she could get the words out of her mouth, John grabbed her up in a hug. 

          "Thanks, Hawkgirl; you don't know how much this means to me." 

          "Just one thing," Hawkgirl interrupted him.

          "Yeah?" he asked, his face buried in her hair.

          "What's with the clothes?"

          John let her go and looked down at his shirt. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

          Shayera shook her head. "No, it has nothing to do with the way you look.  Actually you look kinda nice… for you, that is." John gave a fake frown. "I was just wondering why you were wearing civilian clothes instead of your uniform."

          John smiled that smile that Shayera loved so much. "It _is_ the holidays, and we _are_ on vacation, so I have no intention of walking around in my uniform. Plus, this is one of my favorite sweaters; don't you like?" He then turned and struck various poses, causing Shayera giggle uncharacteristically.

          "Oh, I get it. Just one more thing; I don't have any."

          John stopped his interpretation of a model, and slapped his head. "How dumb can I possibly get? Come on, we've got two choices: raid Wonder Woman's closet-"

          "And have her beat your head in."

          "Or, I can give you your Christmas present," and before she could protest, John was dragging Shayera after him. He went to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Under a pile of neatly folded and stacked clothes, he pulled out a large package in bright green wrapping paper with beautiful birds of every kind on it. Shayera's mouth opened in astonishment.

          "John, I-"

          He pushed the package at her. "Come on, it's one of my gifts to you. I want to have it. Unless you plan on going gallivanting around in your uniform. Besides, this is only the first present for you."

          Shayera took the package hesitantly. "But I didn't get anything for you."

          "Coming with me back home to celebrate the holidays is already the best present you could give me," he reassured her with a smile.

**********************

          John touched down on the roof of his apartment building, letting the life support around him extinguish. Hawkgirl stood beside him, the bags containing a few things from his room on the Watch tower as well as most of Shayera's Christmas gift clothes. He trailed it along behind him in a green bubble as he trod down the steps, Shayera falling in step right beside him. Down they went until they reached John's floor. He stopped at the door and inserted the key in the lock.

          "Hey, GL, has your apartment become any neater than the last time I was here; that is if it's possible?" Shayera grinned.

          "Har de har har," John rolled his eyes. "As a matter of fact, yeah; you going to do something about it? Besides, we're just stopping here to get a few things, then we're going to my grandma's old place. It's where I always spend the holidays."  John retreated to his room and returned a few seconds later. "All right, let's go."

          "How are we going? Are we flying?" Shayera was not pleased at the look on John's face. He walked towards the door and took a set of keys from a peg. 

          "We're driving."

*************

          "You can stay here in the guest room," John told Shayera as he opened the door to an extravagantly decorated bedroom "I'll uh-I'll help you get settled in." He then proceeded to take the remainder of the clothes and help her put them in the dresser, filling three of the drawers. He stepped back to the doorway and rubbed his hands together nervously.

          "So, um,- yeah- so, how about we go get the Christmas tree, decorate it, sing carols, and have Christmas Eve dinner? That sound like a nice plan to you?" he asked in a voice that seemed just a tad too high to belong to him. Shayera barely seemed to notice, however; she was looking a picture on the nightstand.

          "What's this?" she asked, gingerly picking it up. There was a man standing in a suit, his arms around a slender woman. Both had midnight black hair, the man cut close to the scalp at the sides and back, the woman's flowing gracefully past her shoulders. The man's eyes were dark as coal, but filled with warmth, just as the woman's deep, chocolate brown colored ones. Standing between them was a small boy who looked to be maybe 10 years old. All of his hair was cut close to the scalp; he had an earring in his right ear and two in his left. He, too, was dressed in a dark blue suit, his chocolate brown eyes a perfect copy of the woman's. His face was completely carefree, as if he knew the least of inconveniences in the world.  His smile revealed a perfect set of sparkling white teeth, and on his right ring finger was a gold band, gleaming in the light. They were standing in front of a large, beautifully decorated Christmas tree set in a living room that looked suspiciously like the one downstairs.

          John walked over to inspect it. Something in his eyes brightened. "That's- that's a picture of my parents when they were alive." He traced the face of the woman.

          Shayera gently laid one comforting hand on his arm. She reached up and brushed his cheek with the back of her other hand. John reached and grasped the hand with the hand that wasn't holding onto the frame. He closed his eyes and brought her hand down to his lips, kissing it. He opened his eyes to see Shayera, her eyes wet, gazing up at him.

          "This was the last picture we ever took together. I remember it like it was yesterday; we had just gotten in. We always came the night before Christmas Eve and leave the day after Christmas. I loved it here, because the snow would be up to my chest, and I could play in it all I want, and I never had to shovel it. In the back, my grandma's land stretched for a long while back, and there were so many hills, and woods; it was a maze back there, and I loved it." John stopped and smiled. "Believe it or not, I wasn't lying when I told you my grandmother taught me how to snow board; got me out there when I could barely walk. My mom and dad thought it was funny as heck. I learned how to get around unnoticed from my grandmother out there in the woods playing games every time we came. We used to get the Christmas tree from that forest every single year; we chopped it down ourselves and hauled it back to the house. I had always 'helped' take it  back, my folks letting me help carry a little bit more weight each year; made me a heck of a lot stronger than the other boys, and gave me a lot more stamina, too. My mom and my grandma would start cooking as soon as we finished putting up the tree and decorating it, singing Christmas carols all the time. You couldn't walk through the front door before the aroma reached your nose. They cooked so much, we'd have enough food left to last into the New Year." John's voice hitched. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were shining with unshed tears. "That year, my father let me chop most of the tree; I was so proud over that little accomplishment. My mom let me have a few extra sweets when we got back in. It was still relatively early, and my parents had forgotten to pick up pone of my presents. It was this neat little rifle that every kid wanted and no kid was allowed. I-I begged them to go get it; I wanted to show off in front of the others, shove it in their face; they're parents were so superficial, they actually watched G movies before they let them see it. Every last one of them was a prick. They always messed with me, just because I was stronger than they thought I had a right to be; because I was allowed to do just about anything I very well pleased; just because I wasn't white." John narrowed his eyes. "It was my fault; I just had to have that rifle; I wouldn't' let it rest until it was lying under the Christmas tree in plain view. I wanted so much to be better than they were; I didn't realize that until that moment, I was. I didn't look down on others because of what they could and couldn't do; I never looked down on others because of the things they believed; I never once called anyone one name because of the way they did things; I never used others to get what I wanted, bluntly disregarding the way they felt just to please myself; at least until then. I pushed and pushed until they left to go to the store. I knew exactly how long it took to get there and back; just over an hour. I stayed home with my grandmother, helping her cook the pies. One hour passed, then two, then three. To make a long story short-"

          Shayera interrupted him b pressing her hand on his arm. "I want to know what happened, if you want to talk about it; I don't want you to carry this weight around on your chest."

          John sighed. "Maybe I can tell you later, but- a few kids got their hands on some guns, held up the store, shot some of the hostages. Most of the ones shot died instantly. My parents weren't dead; yet. They were in the ICU at the hospital. When it finally registered, I stood there, so shaken up and shocked, I couldn't even cry. I couldn't cry the entire time we stayed up there at the hospital once they were released from ICU; I went to the hospital early in the morning and stayed all day, not getting a wink of sleep; came back late, didn't get a wink of sleep; went to the hospital early in the morning, and sat their beside my parent's beds, still too dumbstruck to say anything. We were in and out all the way into New Year. We watched the countdown in the hospital, in their room, and when it reached zero, just when everyone else was saying 'Happy New Year'…- my-my mom turned to me and she told me to come over to her so she could tell me something. She-she held my hand and slipped a small cross in it and she-she told me- she told me to always keep my faith," there were so many tears in John's eyes, they were threatening to brim over any minute. "Then, she hugged me and she whispered in my ear, 'Good-bye, my dear Jonathan." And I took her off of me and I looked in her eyes; her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes were bluer than the sky. I knew something was wrong without looking in her eyes; my parents never called me Jonathan; no one did. Then she closed them and--….she didn't open them again. I panicked; I ran to my dad and told him to wake up mom, but he just gazed at me with slate gray eyes, and he said, 'Always listen to your grandmother, Jonathan," and he dropped his college ring, the one he never let out of his sight, into my palm, and he gave me a smile, and-he-he-he closed his eyes too. My grandmother was in the cafeteria because I asked her to stay there for a while, so I was all alone in the room with my parents for five whole minutes. And I sat in the corner and all the tears that wouldn't come before wouldn't stop pouring then." John reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain. On the chain was a golden band, as well as a gorgeous ring set with a sapphire and something engraved on the band. In between the two was a small cross, set with brilliant diamonds. Shayera gasped at their beauty. Then, she grasped him in a hug.

          "I'm so sorry I had to make you tell me that; that must have been as bad for you as Grundy's death was for me. I'm sorry," she murmured into his chest. He stroked her hair.

          "It's all right," he told her, tears streaming down his face and into her hair. "Hey, how about we go get that Christmas tree now?"

**********************

_Jingle bells_

_Jingle bells_

_Jingle all the way_

_Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh hey!_

_Jingle bells_

_Jingle bells_

_Jingle all the way_

_Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh hey!_

_Dashing through the snow_

_In a one-horse open sleigh_

_Over the fields we go_

_Laughing all the way!_

_Bells about to ring_

_Making spirits rise_

_What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight!_

_Oh!_

_Jing__-_

_          John abruptly stopped to stare at the open mouth, staring Shayera._

          "What?" he asked as he put on the last decoration.

          "I never knew you sang," Shayera laughed. John's cheeks darkened. He then got an idea.

          "How about after dinner, I show you what else I can do?"

          Shayera gazed at him. "Are you hitting on me?"

          John laughed deeply. "No, I was just going to show you how well I cook!"

          "You have really got to watch out for those broad sentences, Johnny-boy; certain people could take the wrong meaning," Shayera shook her head as John contemplated what she was saying. He grinned again.

          "You know what I think? I think that maybe you had a drink too many."

          Shayera pouted. "I haven't had anything to drink yet, and you know it!"

          "Of course, that's why little Miss Tough is pouting. Come on, let's just eat, then I can do some more singing to you." He made a majestic bow as he hoped down and offered her his arm which she took. Then, they both walked to the dining room.

********************

          Shayera could say nothing. Here was Mr. Military, the guy who took everything too seriously and had probably never laughed in his entire life, eyes closed, smile on his lips, his hands flying over the piano keys as he made a beautiful sound swell up from it. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, convinced that things couldn't get any better, when John's voice suddenly sounded out of no where. Her heart melted as she listened to him singing.

_Let it snow_

_Let it snow_

_Let it snow_

_Let it snow_

_Hey, it's another Christmas holiday_

_It's a joyous thing, let the angels sing_

_'Cause we're together_

_We got a thing we can't let slip away_

_Outside it's raining sleet_

_When our bodies meet_

_I don't care about the weather_

_Let it snow_

_Let is snow_

_Outside it's cold, but the fire's blazin'_

_So baby let it snow_

_Let it snow_

          John was slightly amazed that he was actually singing. He couldn't remember the last time he had sung before tonight, or played the piano; they were both habits he'd let slip away. His heart skipped a beat when he felt Shayera lean on him. He took a breath and continued singing the song he had always loved, even as a kid.

_Oh, come over here and help me trim the tree_

_I want to wrap you up, baby then you'll _

_You're the only present that I need_

_There's so much_

_Waiting for you in store_

_From this precious day_

_I can gladly say_

_There's no place that I'd rather be_

_Girl, you are my everything, come over here_

_God must have sent you down from heaven_

_Let it snow_

_Let it snow_

_Let is snow_

_Let it snow_

_Let it snow_

          John let his voice fade away, the sound streaming through the piano slowly falling away. He finally stopped his hands; they paused over the keys. Shayera brushed his hands aside and began playing a light, graceful tune that was faintly familiar. It was almost like the song his grandmother used tossing to him every night when he was a child. He wrapped his arms around Shayera, bringing her closer, and nuzzled her hair. Shayera began singing in Thangarian, her voice high and sweet.

          "I never knew you played the piano," John said gently. He brought his face down to hers. Shayera stared into his deep brown eyes that she could get lost in; that betrayed him, and showed what John wanted, showed he loved her, pledging himself to her for eternity. His breathe was hot on her cold lips, his muscles firm under his thin shirt pressing against her chest. 

          Her eyes bore into his. He removed the mask and tossed it aside. Those emerald green stones that were her eyes were shining, telling him that she was ready to throw caution to the wind for him. He slid one hand up her back, sending chills down her spine. He was moving closer.

          He felt her tug at his shirt, none too politely, and he willingly pulled it off, he kissed her neck, following her collarbone, planting kisses all the way. Slowly, he slipped her shirt off, her red hair fell back around her now bare shoulders. He traced her with his hands, caressing her soft skin dangerously low before going back up, Shayera wanting his lips to replace his hand. He looked into her eyes gain. Love; that was the only thing there; no worries, no doubts, no fears, no regret; and he knew that his eyes must be showing the same lust, reflecting the same feelings.

          He slowly closed the space between them, his lips seizing her, demanding a kiss in return. She suddenly broke from him. 

          "We don't have to unless you want to; I don't want to push you into anything," he whispered, his voice dripping with compassion.

          "No, it's just- what about Katma?" She saw the worry that had entered John's eyes disappear.

          "What about Katar?" He countered. She smiled. She knew he would know about that. She realized what he was saying.

          "What about them?" she agreed as he slipped off more of her clothing and carried her upstairs to his bedroom, kissing her passionately all the way.

*********************

          Shayera watched as John slowly stirred. He turned his head to her and a slow smile spread across his lips. "Good morning."

          She smirked. "I guess you don't remember last night if it's only a good morning."

           She giggled as John rolled her onto him. "You're right; let me try that again: words cannot describe just how great a morning this is. What time is it?"

          "About eight o'clock," she answered.

          "I don't ever remember getting up that late on Christmas morning," John chuckled.

          "We _did have a long night…." Shayera smiled as her finger traced the side of his face slowly._

          "And you said you didn't get me a present." Shayera playfully slapped his head. "You know something?" Shayera looked at him with eyes that said 'I have no idea'. "This is the third time that I've waken up with an angel in my arms. And not just any angel;" he stopped and gave her a long, passionate kiss, his hands on her back. "_My_ angel."

          Shayera's lips twitched into a grin. Suddenly, her eyebrows lowered. "John, I can't help feeling what we did was wrong."

          John quickly sat up and pulled her into his lap, taking her face in his hands. "Love is never wrong, Shayera."

          Shayera's hand reached for one of John's. "I know. And John, if what I feel for you is wrong, then, God damn it all, I never want to be right again!" she declared, cuddling up closer to John. She tilted her head up as John tilted his head down and they kissed again, not stopping until they ran out of breath. John slid down so that he was lying under Shayera.

          "I love you, Shayera; always have, and always will, no matter what happens."

          "I know," she replied as she lay her head on his chest. He gently stroked her back. "And I love you John; nothing will ever change that, nothing will every make it otherwise."

          "I know. Merry Christmas, Shayera."

          "Merry Christmas, John."


	2. Trust in Love

Bryant: Jademagic does not own the JL, and thank goodness for that…AHH! I'm SORRY! HELP ME, HAWKIN!! AHHH! ::runs off from mad Jademagic::

Ishan: ::sighs:: how many times do I have to tell you _not_ to say anything around her about her not owning our parents before it sinks into your impossibly thick skull? Are you sure you weren't switched at birth, because your father is a very intelligent man…

Bryant: HELP ME, AND SAVE THE LECTURE FOR LATER! AHH!

Ishan: ::sighs again and meanders slowly after carrying electric mace belonging to mother, whistling innocent tune…::

*Trust in Love*

            He glanced at the monitors; not a single soul was in the tower. How did he feel about that? How did he feel about anything, for that matter? It wasn't like he ever showed emotion to the others. No, not him; Mr. Legend, Mr. Myth, Mr. Cans-up-all-his-feelings-so-that-noone-ever-knows-how-he-feels-with-a-God-can-damn-everoyone-else-attitude –to-match. No, he didn't tell anyone or show anyone how he ever felt; not even her…

_Get yourself together_ he told himself sternly. _You've got a legend to uphold, a world to protect-_

_            But what about _your_ needs, hmm?_ Said a tiny voice in the back of his mind.

_            What needs? The only thing I ever needed was taken away from me when I was eight years old!_ He thought bitterly  as he argued with himself. How the Hades had he gotten off track so fast?

            _Is that right?_ The tiny voice replied.

            _Yes, as a matter of fact, it is_ he countered.

            _What about love? Are you sure that even _you_ don't need _that_? _

_            Yes._

_            No, you're not; and you could have already had  the love you desperately need, if you were smart enough to take it; it's standing right in front of you, but you're too dumb to see it..._

"Shut up!" he screamed out loud causing a newly arrived Wally-whom he hadn't seen come in because he was preoccupied with arguing with himself-to run in quite suddenly…even by Flash standards.

            "Whattheheckwasthatfor?" Wally asked drunkly. He swayed unsteadily and fell on the floor. Bruce sighed as he helped the speedster into a chair.

            "How much did you drink, and how many times have I told you not to?" Bruce asked irritably. Sometimes- actually, most of the time-  Wally was more of a hindrance than a help in all honesty.

            "None,andIlostcountat100,000,000,000,000,-"

            "That's enough; where is everyone? Can someone take you home?" Bruce continued impatiently.

            "Idon't….thinkso." Wally hiccoughed.

            "What about J'onn?" Bruce asked.

            "He'swithSupe-er-man," Wally managed.

            "And Superman would be _where_ exactly?"

            "SomewhereinSum-Smok-Sumowal-hishometown," Wally replied as he screwed up his face trying to get the words out.

            Bruce sighed. "What about GL? Surely, your best friend wouldn't mind taking you home?

            Wally smiled that trademark 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' smirk. "Oh, I doubt he would so much as be my acquaintance if I interrupted him and asked him to take me home."

            Bruce raised an eyebrow underneath his cowl. "And why, pray tell, would that be? Wait," he held up his hand to silence Wally as he began to answer. "Don't answer that; I _don't_ want to know." 

            "You sound like GL when he asked me why I would need a van." Wally, who would have sobered up rather quickly regardless, was almost completely back to normal by now- at least, as normal as Wally could ever possibly get- considering how long it was taking Bruce to interrogate him.

            "Why _would_ you need a van? Wait," Bruce held up his hand again to silence Wally as he began to answer yet again. "Don't answer that; I don't want to know _that_ either." He sighed. "Where is Hawkgirl?"

            Wally smirked again. "Where else she nowadays? With GL, of course." Wally wiggled his eyebrows suggestively

            Bruce fought back the urge to punch him; hard. "What about Dian- Wonder Woman?" He quickly tried to hide the fact that he'd called Diana by her real name instead of Wonder Woman.

            Wally either didn't notice or chose not to comment on this but instead allowed a puzzled look to cross his face. "She's the only one I'm not sure about; she said that she had something important to attend to involving Themyscira and one of her Amazonian sisters; that was as much as I got before she took off, and I, for one, am not about to temp fate by upsetting an Amazon on a mission…especially not Wonder Woman…So, are we all finished with the third degree, or is it my turn?" When Bruce hesitated before answering, Wally put on a cocky grin and readjusted himself in his seat for a quick and easy getaway. "Question one; quite easy, really: When are you planning on telling the Princess that you love her?" He flashed that idiotic grin that Bruce would have given almost anything to punch out forever and sped from the room faster than he had ever imagined himself doing. Bruce just sat, his eyes locked on the door that the Scarlet Speedster had just sped out of, not moving, not saying a word.

            Finally, he turned back to the monitors, and, upon watching Wally go to bed at a pain-stackingly slow rate (to make sure he didn't sneak back out), he realized how tired he was and just how much he was aching from Bruce Wayne's last encounter with Wonder Woman….you know, now that he thought back on it, those suggestions he made as to what they could do with that lasso of hers back at his place probably wasn't the best idea he ever had….

            He groaned. He was sure that all of the ribs on the right of his rib cage were either permanently dented and/or broken, and every time he breathed, it was a living hell; either his lung felt like it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest (and, just so you know, he was slightly worried about whether he really should have seen a doctor, whether or not J'onn knew more than they could ever hope to about medicine..) or his nose felt like it was on fire when he inhaled or exhaled. His right arm should have been in a cast and sling, but he had firmly told J'onn that there was no way in Heaven or Themyscira that he was going to allow the Martian to bandage him all up like some fringgin' mummy in a museum. J'onn had not said anything, and had merely raised his eyebrow the slightest bit at Bruce's choice of words, then nodded gravely and let Bruce limp out of the sickbay.

            "That was the second bad idea I've had in less than 72 hours," he grinned ruefully as, despite his best efforts, he slowly fell to sleep. "I should have at least let him bandage all of my …" He didn't finish the sentence as he fell into a deep sleep to compensate for the last week without a wink of shut-eye…maybe he really wasn't human. Then again, maybe he was…

**********************

            With a startled jerk, Bruce shot up and looked around his room, mentally chastising himself for falling asleep. "Way to be professional, Batman," he grumbled as he swung his legs over the bed in his Watchtower room that was basically unlived in.

            "I wouldn't do that if I were you; I just finished changing those bandages." To say that Bruce was surprised would have been like saying Wally was the most responsible person in the universe….whoa, scary thought.

            "Wh-what are you doing in here?" Bruce asked, forgetting to adopt his 'Batman' voice.

            "I found you all tired out in the monitor room, so, I dressed your wounds and brought you back in here," Diana answered as casually as if they'd been talking about the weather that day instead of carrying a sleeping Bruce to his bedroom (that no_body_ ever went into) after dressing the wounds his stubborn hurt pride wouldn't allow a very know ledged Martian to. 

            Bruce suddenly realized that he was wearing but his shorts, and, though most of his was covered in bandages, he had never felt  more naked and he couldn't help feeling that Diana was staring at him…He was quite sure that, had it not been for years of training, he would have blushed right then and there, but the extremities of this situation and embarrassment on both parts to him was so overwhelming, he blushed about ten seconds after the initial threat.

            He cleared his throat several times and found reason to thank God that Diana was on his side, because if she were his enemy, he would be in a lot of trouble. She had managed to do in less than five minutes what many of the most ingenious evildoers had spent their lifetimes trying to do and failed: she just made him stop thinking, and for once, Bruce did not have a plan or even the smallest beginning of one forming in his head.

            Diana cleared her throat too, then headed to the door. She paused and spoke but three words that made Bruce's heart jump in his throat before turning abruptly on her heel and leaving.

.

.

.

.

"Superman; meeting; now."

            _Dammit_.

***************************

            Diana shifted uncomfortably; Bruce's face was turned toward the general direction of Shayera and John, but with that stupid cowl on his face, she couldn't tell what he was looking at, and just because somebody was finding this immensely funny, he could have easily been looking at her even though it looked as if he were looking at the aforementioned.

            Actually, Bruce was looking at John and Shayera, and in his mind, he was furious. _How the hell do they get away with it? They're trying to hide it, true; they've been trying to hide it since we all got back from New Year's. And even though we all know,…damn it, they're still making it work somehow! HOW?!?_ He shifted angrily and looked to Clark who was standing and saying something about everyone taking a little night out on the town together in honor of Valentine's Day… and to Bruce's disgust, the others were lapping it up. _It's not because they don't show feeling for one another all the time…Joker's show was proof of _that_…was it because they don't show  it as much as I do? I mean, if that' s it, it'll never work for me…Gorilla City was proof of that…but that couldn't be it either; hell, they're more passionate about each other than they would ever admit, and they'd admit quite a lot; let there be abso-frickin'-lutely no doubt about that..._

            "So, how about, Batman; you're the only one who hasn't voiced his opinion," John asked. Bruce shot a death glare at him that would have left most quaking in soiled shorts, but John just shrugged, rolled his eyes in Shayera's direction, and smiled, trying to stop from laughing, as was Shayera.

            He grunted.

            "Well, it's unanimous. I happen to have heard of this nice restaurant/club from a good friend of mine –"

            "That's code for 'Lois, the love of his life'," Shayera communicated to John who immediately fought to contain himself.

            "As I was saying, it's a very nice… society club, if you will, I think that we would all love; dancing, drinking, and good, pure, clean fun." Clark emphasized the last four words and glared at Wally who put on his best innocent face.

            "Wait; is Lois going to be joining us?" J'onn asked suddenly.

            The Big Blue Boy Scout turned into a Big _Red_ Boy Scout. "Well, um…well, I suppose.. I mean… I …invited…her.."

            For reasons unknown to the others, J'onn smiled largely. He got up and practically danced out the door. "I am not going to need my aspiring tonight! Yippee!"

            To the credit of  others, they actually waited for five minutes in total shock before laughing.

*********************

            Bruce paced his room; he was sure he had worn a track in the floor; he'd been pacing for nearly an hour , ever since  Clark had insisted that they get ready that early.  

_Damn him. How had he roped me into this?_ Bruce thought darkly as he stopped and readjusted his collar  for the million billionth time.  He ran a hand through his hair and wished yet again that there was something he could do with his hair when he suddenly stopped.

            "What the heck?!?" He asked himself as he flopped on the bed. "Why do I feel like I'm a teenager on his first date…what the heck?!?!" He lay back and clamped his hands to his head. He didn't even move when he heard the knock on the door; he had hurt his bandaged side when he'd fallen on the bed. Bruce didn't object as the figure entered the room and sat down on a chair. When the figure spoke….Bruce hopped about five feet in the air.

            "You will tell her tonight." Bruce was just the slightest bit taken back by the Martian's straightforwardness.

            He cleared his throat and sat back on the bed. "I have no idea what you're talking about, J'onn." He said the Martian's name slowly, threateningly. J'onn…laughed.

            "Of course you do!" Bruce raised an eyebrow. _Did somebody leave Oreos out again?_ He thought critically. He sighed; they knew what J'onn got like on an Oreo high….

            "Listen, you winged freak," J'onn's voice sliced through the still air of Bruce's room suddenly. There was not slightest bit of a smile on his green face. Bruce gulped slightly as he remembered what J'onn was like when he was P.O.'d…. "I am sick of you and the dumb little Boy Scout in there and little Ms. Princess giving me splitting headaches all day and all night.  You will tell her tonight or I will tell her for you; got it?"

            Bruce nodded.

            J'onn smiled. "Now, I am going to get some Oreos; would you care for one?"

***************************

            Diana walked slowly at the back of the group; the only person behind her was ..the last person she wanted to say anything to. Was it not enough that she'd almost let it slip how she felt about him? _Great Hera, I swear that Superman planned this on purpose; somehow, I just know it. And J'onn had a hand in this somewhere too.._

            Ahead of her, J'onn, in his human form, turned his head the slightest bit and looked back to her. _You bet I did, Princess. And tonight, you're confessing everything. You don't have to be afraid. Just speak you heart; he'll listen._

J'onn turned back to Lois (who didn't seem the least bit disturbed about talking to a Martian about what the world was coming to today…or holding onto the arm of the last remaining organism of his species….or the fact that her entire company was made of 'people' who's night job included parading about in space in spandex) and asked what she thought of the school systems. 

            Bruce, staring at Diana's back and following along like an abused puppy behind it's master, glanced at John and Shayera who didn't seem to have any taste for hiding their relationship from anybody tonight. He realized suddenly that because John, Shayera, J'onn, and Diana never hid their identities, anybody who had common sense and saw himself, Wally, and Clark with them would guess who they were…oh well. Too late  to do anything about it now. 

            How friggin' long had they been walking? To Diana, it felt like an eternity. They followed whoever the heck this annoyingly cheeky woman was down hallway after hallway, the woman throwing cherry comments back to them the entire time. Finally, they came to a rather large room that said 'reserved'. There were four small table that sat two arranged in a sort of circular pattern set back from the other groups. There was a band on stage, and many people were dancing. The light was low, and all around were scented candles on many tables, and the aroma choked Bruce as he hastily followed the others in. Clark and Lois sat down at one of the tables, and J'onn and Wally sat together at the one right beside them. John and Shayera didn't even sit; they simply joined the large group of people dancing. So, Diana took a seat at the last table and Bruce (who'd put on his best Bruce Wayne act as soon as they'd come in sight of the restaurant/club) sat across from her.

****************************

            "Hey, good looking, how about a little dance?" Wally looked up at the drop-dead-gorgeous woman standing in front of him, and then did something very un-Flash like.

            "No can do; I'm a taken man. Sorry." He shrugged his olive clad shoulders, readjusted the olive jacket, and went back to talking with Diana.

            Diana looked at him in surprise. She crossed her legs, straightened the black dress she was wearing, and placed her hands respectively on her knees before facing Wally like an interviewer. Wally was sure that he heard Bruce, who was sitting behind him, take in a sharp breath. "Well, all I want to know is who you are, what you've done with the real Flash, and just how long will you be staying?"

            Wally laughed and set his drink down on the table in a gentlemanly way. "I'm Wally West, I _am_ the real Flash, and I will be staying as long as you're saying…"

            Diana cut him off before he could continue the line of the song. "SO, you're a taken man, are you?" She rose her eyebrow and sat back as if she's just heard something she hadn't been looking for but  found quite interesting.

            " Why is that so hard to believe? Here, take a look," Wally reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of a pretty woman with beautiful light green eyes and long blond hair. She was standing on a beach and wearing a pink sun dress and a straw hat. She was smiling, and her hair billowed out behind her like the ocean from the sandy, white shore her bare feet seemed to be floating over. Clark whistled and got nice look from Lois.

            "What?" he asked.

            "She's beautiful," Shayera commented as she leaned over from her position on John's lap to better see the picture.

 John, too, turned his attention to his best friend as he wrapped his arms tightly around Shayera's waist. He was slightly mad at Bruce because the bracelet that she was wearing made it like her wings almost weren't there; he actually _liked_ her wings and the way they could and _would_ always express her emotions no matter what . "Not nearly as beautiful as you, Shy," he told her as he looked too. 

 "Who is she?" Lois asked.

            "That's Linda, and guys, if  there's such a thing as love, I think I've found it in her. YOW!"

            "Well of course there's such a thing as love!" John had just hit Wally on the head. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

            "I wouldn't be too sure about that," Bruce responded. All eyes turned the brooding actor who'd played Mr. Bachelor for everyone he came in contact with who knew him simply as Bruce Wayne.

            Diana glanced at him, her blue eyes holding something that Bruce couldn't believe; no way the Amazon princess would ever feel, much less show, pain.

            "Excuse me," Diana got up and walked quickly out of the room.

            "You unfeeling jerk," Shayera hit Bruce over the head. He merely rubbed the spot where her fist had connected with his head…hard.

            "And what was that for, might I ask?" Bruce took a swig of his drink and glanced at the unbelieving faces of his teammates.

            "For being an idiot," John replied angrily. He pulled Shayera closer as if Bruce had just mortally wounded her; to John's credit, Shayera did look like she'd just been served a hawk and looked every ounce like she was ready to kill him.

            "Dude, even I'm not that insensitive." Wally gave Bruce a look of extreme disapproval. He noticed that Shayera looked ready to cause bodily harm to Bruce, so he sought a way to get her away from him. "So, Shy, wanna dance?"

            "Only if you never call me by that name again," She replied. She looked as if a great weight had been moved off of her. "Can I please?" She asked teasingly of John, twirling a lock of her cinnamon hair around her finger like a lovesick teenager. She was still eager to dance even thought she and John had spent almost the last hour doing so.

            John had to force himself not to laugh. "Damn it Shy, you _know_ I can't tell you no. But, I get the next slow dance." He smiled good-naturedly, and there was a hint of devilment in his eyes.

            "Well, duh," She chuckled as she put her finger under his chin and gave him a long kiss.

            "Why can _he_ call you Shy?" Wally complained as Shayera dragged him to the crowd of people.

            John leaned back and a smile played across his lips. Yep, he was happy with his life….

**************************

            "How do you do it?" John looked up at the sudden question that broke the small silence enveloping the two of them as the others were all else where.

            "What?"

            "Shayera, the League, life, _balancing_ all of it. How do you do it?" Bruce was frustrated he'd never felt so….ugh! Helpless and confused!

            "I follow my heart." John leaned back again.

            "But what if you get hurt? What if you hurt someone else?"  Bruce felt like he had to be somewhere, like he had to be somewhere before it was too late, but he wasn't going to make it; there was something he needed to know; it was right there, but he just couldn't get it and….ARGH!

"That's a chance you have to take." John was getting puzzled by the strange direction of the third-degree session.

"Is it really worth it to take that chance though?" 

John looked up again; this time he looked carefully as the man before him; no one really knew Bruce; not truly…maybe that was why everyone had such a problem connecting with him except for….

He cleared his head and focused on the problem ahead of him. That was the first time he'd ever heard question in Bruce's voice. Suddenly John had a very creepy feeling…Bruce always knew. He always had the answer and he was never in any doubt. For Bruce, the Batman, to be frustrated, even….. _scared_ by such a simple thing.…that was just creepy.  He put his hands together and stared at Bruce hard. "You're really serious, aren't you?"

            "As a heart attack," Bruce said savagely as John leaned in closer so that he could see the difference in Bruce's pupils and the stony black of his eyes.

            John leaned back and frowned. "God, man, I don't know how to explain it….it sort of ….just does." He sighed and threw up his hands. "I really don't know."

            "What is it that you _do_? What is it that you do that makes everything fall in place like it does? What makes it work?" His eyes were wide and piercing, as if they were searching in the depth of green of John's eyes for the answer.  John stared back, trying to recognize the scared, helpless man in front of him, because this wasn't the Bruce he was familiar with. His black eyes held a feverish look… Bruce looked away.

            John thought a moment. "Love."

            Bruce blinked and blinked again, then blinked yet _again_ just for good measure. "Love? That's all? Just…._love?_"

            John nodded as he leaned back again, satisfied. "Love….and trust."

            "I don't do trust," Bruce said to himself more than to John after a moment.

            John opened one closed eye and looked at him. "Learn it."

*******************

            "Diana?" Diana looked up from where she was removing the last of his bandages. She ran a hand over the taut skin and he fought to keep from flinching, but she still felt the tension as her hand traveled along the small scar close to his navel then back up his hard chest. He was sweating; those bandages had been rather hot, after all. 

She looked up, but his face was turned out the window toward the empty space, nothing but miles and miles of darkness and stars that shone dimly from afar, barely making a difference in the overwhelming dark. That was how he felt right then. He wasn't making a large difference that was doing those around him any good; he was, however, making the biggest difference between helping and hurting, and unfortunately, it was the later he was doing. 

He drew a quick breath. "I'm sorry," he breathed, his eyes never leaving the star field.

            Diana jerked her head around suddenly and looked at him. "What for? You didn't do anything."

            "I'm sorry," He repeated again. He sighed. He didn't know who he was anymore. This wasn't him….was it? He paced around the room, quite aware that Diana's blue eyes were as good as cutting through him as she watched. Finally, he leaned in front of her so that his breath was brushing against her lips pulled back the cowl revealing his face. He tossed the cowl to the floor and locked his dark eyes on her, and for once, he completely let down the shields that had developed there when he was just a little boy.

            "Diana,…" Bruce let himself trail off before drawing in a deep breath. "This….isn't…me. None of it. I'm not a scared little boy, scared of the world, boxing himself  into a little corner and fearing life itself…am I?" Diana was shocked. 

            She reach a hand out to his face and gently traced the side. "Who are you?" she asked in a shaky voice.

            Bruce closed his eyes. "I ….I….I don't know." His eyes sprang open and he jumped up suddenly, stalking about his room again.

            "Who am I?" He asked as he flung the cape off his back. "You know, that's a very good question; _who am Ii_? Am I Batman, am I vengeance? Am  I the night? AM I BATMAN?" he walked more frantically and his voice changed. "WHO AM I?! I don't know who I am! AM I Bruce Wayne? The Bruce Wayne that's the richest man in Gotham, not the richest, most available _bachelor_ in Gotham? Am I a dog who will never know anything more than one night stands? WHO AM I? No, better question: _what do I feel?_ How do I feel? Well, there's something I can at least partially answer!" He pulled of his shirt and threw it on the floor too.

            "I feel….sad! No, that's an understatement; I never knew my mother; she was taken away when I was only eight! Worse than that: I never knew my father! How can a boy grow without his father? Alfred stepped in, and let me tell you, he was a better replacement than most people's _real_ fathers, but dammit, there are just some things that can't be substituted!"

            He continued walking around his room in a frenzy. Diana was too mortified to say a word. "I can barely remember them; do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel like maybe I'm – I'm doing something wrong! That I'm wrong! I feel guilty all the time because no matter what I do, my memory of the fades everyday- every freakin' day! And I'm mad. I'm not angry- no, I'm mad. I'm only human; I'm not above wanting revenge. And, God, let me tell you," he stooped in front of Diana again. "I –want –revenge.  I want them back. But guess what? That's not happening. And guess what else? It wouldn't matter if I could trust and love." He stood up again.

            "If I could trust, if I could love, if I could, then maybe, I could find life again, because right now, I don't have it. I love all right, oh, I can love still." Bruce spun suddenly and stopped moving across his room. "I still love, but it useless. She'd never love me, because she could never trust me. She could never trust a man, but she _really could never trust me. Do you know why, Diana?"_

            She just looked at Bruce. She was very close to crying. Was he talking about… _her?_ "No," her brain made her mouth say even though she didn't authorize it. Whether it was to her question or to his, neither knew, but Bruce answered.

            "Because I can't trust her. Do you know why I can't trust her?"

            Diana shook her head and stood up, moving toward him.

            "Because I can't trust myself. I haven't been able to trust myself since the night I watched my parents get killed. I just can't."

            "Bruce," Diana wrapped her arms around him from behind. "I do trust you; I always have."

            "Why?" Bruce removed her hands and turned to face her. He let his hand trace her face.

            "Because I love you, you ignorant little man!"  She ran her hand over each of Bruce's smooth muscles.

            She looked up into his eyes, wide with surprise. "Wh-what?" 

            Diana couldn't help it; she laughed. "I –love –you." With that said, she drew closer and kissed him on his lips. Bruce was slightly take back, but didn't resist. He deepened the kiss, snaking his arms around her and pulling her close to him.

            He looked at her when they parted, mouth still agape.

            "Don't do that; it makes you look unbelievably silly." She traced her finger along his lips before letting her lips replace her fingers again.

            "You love me?" He asked quietly.

            "Men!" She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I love you. What part of that don't you understand?"

            "You can't trust me."

            "Yes, I can."

            "Why?" Bruce was completely  bewildered.

            "Because I trust in love." She rested her head on his firm chest.

            "Trust in love… I get it…"he muttered as he relaxed and held Diana closer.

            "Get what?" Diana asked.

            "It's something GL told me…I asked him how he made everything balance and work; the League, love, Hawkgirl.. ."

            "What did he say?"

            Bruce led her to his bed and sat down. She sat on his lap like a small child on her father's. "He said…love." 

            "Love?" Diana looked at him questioning.

            "Yeah; love…and trust. He was saying to love you had to trust… in yourself and in others…but you also had to trust in love. I understand now." He kissed her gently.

            "Understand this, lover boy," she smiled coyly as she pulled him into another kiss and slowly maneuvered him into a lying position.

            "No, Diana," Bruce said suddenly. She sat back up. He was breathing heavily and he looked scared. He tried to sit up. "Please. You can't."

            Diana gazed into his eyes and sighed at what she found.

            He sighed, too. "You have to leave; right now," he told her, fighting the urge to pull he back down on top of him. "You have to leave, now, or…" he trailed off.

            "Or what?" She asked as if challenging him.

            "Or I won't let you leave."

            She understood what he was telling her and moved so that he could sit up.

            "Please; I love you too much."

            Diana nodded and stood up to leave, but Bruce reached up and held her back. He pulled her back down into his lap and actually smiled.

            "I love you, but I know that I'll– "

            "Regret this in the morning?" She finished teasingly.

            His smile widened. "Something like that, but I was thinking more like I _won't_ regret this in the morning." She smiled too as he Bruce lay back in bed and pulled her onto him.

*************************

            Somewhere in, in the entertainment room, really, John, Shayera, Wally, and J'onn sat around the TV. Shayera cheered on John as she sat cozily in his lap, half asleep already, as he and Wally played the video game. J'onn sat on a chair and watched, quite contended with his bag of Oreos.

            Suddenly, he smiled as a message came through from Bruce.

            "Just so you know," he smiled. "Bruce has as good as put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on his bedroom door." He laughed as he phased through the floor.

            "We've got to stop giving that crazy alien Oreos," Shayera muttered.

***********************

            Diana slowly stirred. She felt the space beside her under the sheets; warm, but empty; the sheets were still wrinkle, indicating that someone had obviously occupied that space not long ago. 

            "Great Hera, why is it that I love that man?" She asked as she lay on her pillow. She reach her hand out and touched something….thin and soft. She brought it closer so that she could see what it was. A rose petal. 

            Sitting up, Diana looked around he bed…that was covered with rose petals, as was her floor…her dresser…her desk…her chair…her entire room was covered in rose petals. Suddenly, she remembered the night before, and feeling a fait blush creep to her cheeks, she remembered why she loved him.

            "That would be why," she smiled as her attention was drawn to stack of brightly wrapped presents that had devoured one corner of her room. She drew in an excited breath. This must be what John and Wally and Bruce felt like on those Christmas mornings they described.

            "You like?" Diana spun around to look over at the person she had missed when she woke up. She smiled as he came toward her and pulled her close.

            "Yes!" Diana exclaimed.

            "Do you think it stacks up to what Shayera faced on Christmas morning?" Bruce asked as he gestured toward the presents.

            She pretended to frown as in deep thought. "I don't know; she said that she couldn't even walk because there were so many presents."

            "Well, hurry up and get dressed; John and Shayera are probably waiting for us." Bruce grabbed a box and handed it to Diana who opened it.

            "John? Shayera? Why?" She asked as she held the silky blouse up.

            "Well, we're going to have breakfast, take a nice little tour in _Le Art Museum_, have a nice boat ride, do brunch a carriage ride through the park, lunch a visit to the beach before a nice dinner…" he trailed off and Diana looked expectantly at him to continue.

            "And…"Diana mimicked.

            "Then we go home and spend a nice, romantic evening at home…." He grinned wickedly. Diana smiled and captured his lips with hers, leaning back on the bed, him leaning over her. "It's already five, you know…" he informed her as he moved in for another kiss.

            "Plenty of time," she whispered lustily in his ear, her breath tickling his ear and making him wish that they day was already over.

            "Hey, Diana," Bruce whispered.

            "Yes?"

            "I love you."

            Diana smiled. "I love you to, Bruce."

            "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart."

            "Happy Valentine's Day, Honey."


End file.
